


Reach

by orphan_account



Category: Ensemble Stars! (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Shigatsu wa Kimi no Uso | Your Lie in April Fusion, Angst, M/M, Pianist Sena Izumi, Romance, Slow Burn, Violinist Leo Tsukinaga, will add more characters, will add more tags
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-15
Updated: 2018-11-15
Packaged: 2019-08-24 06:07:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16634411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: A little Izumi Sena gets his life turned upside down by a certain violinist.





	Reach

**Author's Note:**

> honestly, my writing skills are rusty atm!! when i was reading this all over again i thought to myself, "god. this is actually really ugly." but i had this idea of a YLIA AU of Izuleo for a while b/c wow i love ylia!! favorite anime!! and i love izuleo!! favorite ship!! so i just. had to deal with it. besides, i already had all of this planned and i wrote it down so why t h e f u c k not

Izumi would describe the atmosphere as a pitiful reminder. There was a spill of grey clouds that overshadowed the sky. Even as the broken street light was flickering on and off, it was still not enough to brighten up the monotone setting. No matter how many times he blinked, there still was no splash of color. Everything was black and white— just like a music sheet. A pitiful reminder.

He shoved an earbud in and strolled along the sidewalk. It has been a while since Izumi freely walked around the streets of Japan with no worry in mind. It has been a while since his mind was clear, open and refreshed, after all.

It was not expected to experience a much more peaceful hue in his surroundings. As soon as he stepped outside late at night, it was a sudden change. Like what most would see in cartoons, Izumi supposes. Where one small step forward can lead the person fully drenched in heavy rain. Very uncannily similar to said comparison, he finds himself in disbelief over realizing how haunting the safety of his own home is and how unusually calm he became immediately after taking a step outside. Izumi amuses himself with the thought that he should become homeless instead.

As much as the outdoors rejuvenated the boy, Izumi still felt a tight uneasiness. He feels strangely unsettled, though he cannot fathom the reason why. He soon recognizes the feeling-- anxiety. But for what?, he wonders to himself. He passes another broken streetlight, this time taking account of its frequency. Without much of a thought, Izumi tapped against his iPod to the rhythm, ending up finding a rhythm that flows smoothly into a piece he heard recently on the radio. He was about to hum to said piece, but stopped after feeling his breathe hitch. Frowning, he shook the trouble away.

It was frustrating how he could not enjoy the sound of his own music. To not be able to express his passion through thin dark black lines. To not be able to hear his own piece yet being exposed to hundreds who can easily read him through said piece. It was like walking in blindfolded; Izumi felt vulnerable. He was a musician, after all. What form of expression can he do if — as much as he doesn’t want to admit it — he is still desperately grasping on to the keys of his piano. 

That is when Izumi realizes, his mind has become too clear and open to any thoughts. He sighed and stopped in his tracks, finding himself facing the music hall. There was a poster plastered against the tree next to him, which Izumi simply ignored in the beginning. He had already discerned what was written— it was the long awaited violin competition— due to the fact that to this day, event organizers have been incredibly persistent in having Izumi participate. Even if it meant being an accompanist for a violinist, apparently. What right did they think they had to remind him that he was no longer able to solo? That day, he trashed the email.

Izumi shifted his head up to the concert hall to the park. It was clear, as usual, yet there was something eerie that awaits him. He reached for his iPod to turn it off, realizing that for the past few minutes, it was not playing a single thing. Izumi pulled down his earbuds and shoved them inside his pockets, not caring if they’d become tangled into a ball. The piece was still playing, it’s sound still rich with a strange sense of closeness. He looked away from the music hall to the playground structure, immediately seeing a boy.

It was as if the wind appeared on demand; the boy’s unruly muted hair was in the breeze, showing his features much more clearly. His eyes were shut close and with a violin in hand, he played and played. Izumi recognizes this— it’s Beethoven but not quite. This Beethoven was full of melancholy and emotion, as if the boy was hurting inside. 

The boy stopped and opened his eyes, immediately meeting Izumi’s gaze. They were dead, lime colored eyes. The green-eyed boy brought his wrist up to his eyes and wiped them, as if he were crying. He gave Izumi a toothy-grin.

He looked below himself, where sheets of paper were scattered along the floor. The unruly haired latter looked puzzled and looked back at Izumi, eyes lighting up. “Can you get that for me? The music sheet next to your feet.”

Speechless, Izumi reluctantly walked over to the other. “You wrote all over this to the point where it isn’t even Kreutzer anymore.”

“That doesn’t matter”, replied back the boy. 

“What’s the point in having music pieces written for us if we can’t even follow the score?”, Izumi shot back, irritated. 

Unexpectedly, the boy smiled, taking the music away from Izumi. “It’s just my Beethoven”, he said simply. “Did you dislike it? My music?”

It was not the fact that the question was rude; the silver-haired boy could clearly tell that the question was told purely out of curiosity. The fact that the other asked Izumi with such innocence in his words annoyed him. “I didn’t. As much as I hate to admit, I liked it.”

There was a wild and proud grin on his face. “Score!”

Izumi didn’t know what to say and replaced his response with the sound of him clearing his throat. 

The boy gathered his music sheets in an orderly manner and with both his violin and sheets, he swung them under his arm. He jumped down from the playground and stood in front of Izumi. (He found himself with relief that he was slightly taller than the boy). Looking up, the violinist stretched out his hand. “I’m Leo Tsukinaga.”

“What kind of--”, Izumi broke off and cleared his throat once again. He obliged and shook his hand. “Izumi Sena.”

“It’s nice to meet you in person!”, Leo chirped. In his hands, he gripped Izumi’s hand with tight comfort and gave him another toothy grin. Once Leo opened his eyes, the colors of his irises began to come to life. It was as if a drop of emeralds exploded in his eyes. They were a beautiful shade of green citrus. But in behind such life, there was a tint of sadness in them. An aloof person, indeed.

Realizing how long he has been staring, Izumi quickly drew back his own hand. Before he could say anything, Leo was already packing his things together. His violin was already strapped, scores placed inside a folder, in a matter of seconds. Currently in the process of loosening his bow, Leo glanced over at the concert hall building. He opened his mouth slightly to say something but quickly shook his head and shut it. 

Before leaving, Leo adjusted his case’s straps, waved and said. “So, I’ll see you later, Sena.” Izumi nodded and returned the favor, watching the green-eyed boy’s back walk farther and farther away from him. After he was no longer visible, Izumi decided that he should head back home. He spun on his heel, turning to face the streetlight that had lost it’s flicker. The light was bright as ever.

—

Just yesterday was Izumi’s first time going out in forever, the last bits of his time outside were spent with a peculiar violinist named Leo who plays according to what his heart is telling him. It was still vexing just even thinking how much of a blockhead that violinist was, proudly adjusting not one measure, but every single measure of the piece, and how much Izumi actually liked Leo’s version of Kreutzer to the point where he found himself walking to the concert hall, where the violin competition were to take place.

It was like his legs were moving on it’s own, controlled by the violinist's music. Izumi didn’t understand why he wasn’t overly against the thought of attending the performance; it was a violin competition after all. If it was a piano competition, it would have made sense even though he is adamant with not even attending to watch other fellow pianists. 

But there he was, at the very entrance of concert hall. Izumi felt his heartbeat gradually fast. Taking a deep breath, he pushed the door open. 

Not surprisingly, the lobby was filled with people; this was the long-awaited violin competition, after all. It was a warm setting; parents were by their children’s side, wishing them good luck, friends competing against each other promising that they won’t go down easily as well as other various signs of sportsmanship, and children chattering amongst themselves with enthusiasm.

Izumi kept his head low either way. It has become a habit for him to conceal himself due to his modeling activities. But it was a good thing he did so at this point. If he were to be recognized, that would make him extremely uncomfortable, judging from his past. He did see a few familiar faces, after all. He pushed the sunglasses up higher on his nose bridge and adjusted his hat. 

Honestly, Izumi sighed to himself. What made him clear his whole schedule just for this stupid competition of classical music? If anything, it reminded him too much of a bad memory. Sure, he used to be very passionate about what he did before but again, that was a long time ago. Back then, Izumi had a purpose, a reason to play. But to this day, he hasn’t found a reason to continue his career as a pianist. He knows this event wasn’t going to hinder his thoughts drastically, so why bother wasting his own time? Izumi knows this oh so well yet his feet are practically planted on the grounds of the concert hall. 

As soon as he lifted up his arm to check the time, Izumi noticed people shuffling inside the theater and followed along. He was relieved to know that he was able to proceed unnoticed, hell, not even looked at. Things were going a lot smoother than planned. 

Once everyone in the theater settled, the lights began to dim and a person— the event host— popped up and introduced himself as well as a well-rehearsed speech about today’s events. Though said speech was well-rehearsed, it was nothing new and/or of importance. The words being projected from the walls to the audience began to dull in Izumi’s ears like a bunch of bundles of gibberish and at one point, made him reconsider being there. Eventually, the man finish off his biography of this tradition with the title of piece (that Izumi did not quite catch, but didn’t really mind), and a bow after receiving an applause of affirmation. 

The host was replaced with a duo— a boy that was possibly a few years younger that Izumi and a slightly older girl who was settled at her place at the piano. The boy took a few breaths and turned around to face the girl, both nodding at each other in unison. And so it begins.

It was Kreutzer, Izumi knew that already from the emails and flyers he has received and seen, but there was something about it that seemed…lifeless about it. The boy looked strained, controlling himself to not go overboard, but that played against him. He was incredibly stiff, as if there was no passion in his strokes. However, it was definitely Kreutzer, even though it sounded as if it was regurgitated. It did not occur to Izumi that he were to sit through these disgorged Kreutzer performances. They weren’t bad, he admits. But each violinist was lacking something Izumi couldn’t quite identify.

Soon enough, it came to the last performance of the day. There hasn’t been a single violinist that caught Izumi’s eye, which to his dismay, he was disappointed. It was quite sad, really. He has left the world of classical music and came back to see that nothing had changed. Everything was still dark and monotone just the way he left it. 

A loud step echoed along the walls of the theater, bringing Izumi back to reality. He snapped up from his seat and directed his eyes towards the stage. 

It was an astonishing view from afar. Everything was grey: the seats, the walls, the lights, the piano, the people— everything. Everything except for the smiling bright green eyes that seem to glow in the dark pit of the theater.

Izumi heard himself gasp at the sight. It was the weird violinist he met the other day. He donned a white suit with a blue shirt that complemented the scheme as well as white shoes and pants. His pale orange hair wasn’t tied back into a ponytail but this time, kept down. With a confident smile, Leo tugged his white gloves down and lifted his violin up.

The violinist started off slow and gentle, body in sync with his bowings. The look on his face teased that something greater was going to happen; he began to pick up the speed, bowings were becoming smaller and smaller and smaller, his exchange with his accompaniment now turning into a duel between two knights; yet they both were able to complement each other as one. 

When it was the pianist’s turn to hold up his sword, there was a pause. He looked up at Leo, his hands rested in position on the piano, as if he was waiting for a cue. Leo exchanged the same glance and looked out towards the audience, his cat-like eyes flared in the dark hall. It was as if Leo was staring right at Izumi. Was he looking at Izumi? He doubted that he can see him from up far, especially in the dark. Answering his question, Leo smirked at him and turned towards his accompaniment and nodded. They resumed to their positions.This exchange was only a quick second, but it felt as if time stopped between he and Leo. 

Like fireworks, the duo exploded. The violinist’s eyes were closed, leading the pianist on and on. It was like there a switch turned on and Leo became a totally different person. That wasn’t the Leo he met the other day, the Leo that was perched up alone on the playground equipment, violin moaning for help in sorrow. This was a new Leo, a new Leo who has reinvented Kreutzer. He has finished off Beethoven single handedly and took his writing pen and began shaping the piece so it was made for only him so only he can play and only he will be the one to shine the most.

It’s selfish of Leo to do so, but that’s how a musician survives in the dying world of classical music, even if it meant he had to get his hands tainted and dirtied. Izumi knows this. He knows the trick Leo is trying to pull, but he remains undefiant. His eyes and mind are glued to the bold violinist.

With all of the willpower he can muster up, Izumi looked over to the direction of the piano. The pianist settled on the seat was just as focused as the violinist, his back was leaning forward towards his instrument, brow furrowed in concentration. He was tense, as if he was trying to keep up with his partner. Such a performance would have been looked down upon, but Leo made it work. As if he were the accompaniment, he dragged the pianist into better light. This feat was impressive as the violinist himself was able to keep the spotlight all on him. 

With a final duel between musicians, they fought for dominance through their chords, an exchange. Each chord from both sides became louder and louder until they both ended their battle with a long yet quick note. The two Knights glanced at each other and lowered their swords, grinning at each other with a silent “Well done!”

It was like attending a school sports event— every single person in the audience were standing with spirit. Parents were applauding the duo and the children were jumping and cheering with the childish innocence they had. It’s a new thing that Izumi wasn’t expecting to happen in such a world. 

Izumi stared back down at the stage, seeing Leo waving at the crowd happily like a kid with his bow hand. Realization struck him when his eyes wandered to the judge’s podium.

What an idiot has Leo turned out to be. 

At the corner of his eye, Izumi noticed the violinist waving at him enthusiastically. He turned his head forward, seeing Leo gesturing at the lobby. Wait for me, he mouthed to Izumi, who nodded in affirmation.

Leo continued pulling his focus back to the crowd that was still clapping for he and the pianist. He looked at his audience with confidence and then Izumi knew: Leo was a complete idiot. A mad, free-spirited violinist that broke free from the staff, breaking and snapping each paired eighth and sixteenth note into pieces, breaking the perfectly shapes ovals of whole notes, and slicing each quarter rest in half, challenged today’s standards with one performance. One duel between Beethoven and himself.

He was beautiful.

\--

Izumi was attacked by the wrapping of arms around his neck and a high-pitched, “Senaaaa!” from behind. Immediately, he brought his own arms and began pulling the offender’s arms away from him and turned around, seeing Leo in casual attire. His violin case was strapped from behind, hair tied in a lie ponytail. 

“What the hell is wrong with you--”, Izumi began.

“Sena, Sena”, Leo chimed in. “I didn’t know you were here! What did you think about my performance? Did you like it? Was it good? Senaaaa, did you come to see me perform--”

Hissing, Izumi brought up his own hand to cover Leo’s mouth. “Stop yelling and ask me a question one at a time.”

Leo pouted and was about to continue on as if Izumi hadn’t said a word when a tall man with framed glasses approached the violinist.

“Tsukinaga, the results have been posted on the wall”, the man informed. 

“Thanks n’ all, but I don’t really care about that kind of stuff”, Leo chirped with a toothy grin. 

“Are you sure? Your performance was great. I’m sure you’re curious about who else you’re competing against.”

Leo waved off the question with his hand. “Oh I don’t really care about winning.”

Perplexed, the man nodded and left the two boys. When it was clear the man was visibly gone, Izumi found himself just as perplexed as the man was. Then, he felt as if a lit flame has been turned on.

“Hello?”

The two boys turned around to see two young girls who seemed to be sisters. The taller one who wore double-braided pigtails pushed the smaller one, who was holding a bouquet of flowers behind her back, forward.

“I loved your violin performance”, the smaller one said, shyly handing Leo the bouquet.

“My version of Kreutzer was great, isn’t it?”, Leo proudly said. “It’s people like you I should be thanking.”

The little one widened her eyes, puzzled. “What do you mean?”

“It’s kind of like—“, with his free hand, Leo tried to gesture what he was trying to say. “I saw the whole audience and I got excited! It’s like I got possessed by aliens and I just started playing and—“

Izumi groaned and pulled Leo back from embarrassing himself. “Tsukinaga, you’re going to confuse her”, he stated, pulling the face mask down to breathe. 

“You got controlled by aliens?”, exclaimed the girl.

“I probably did!”, Leo shouted back.

The silver haired boy sighed and dragged Leo along. “Now that’s enough, Leo.” He looked back at the little girl, whose eyes were practically sparkling in awe. I guess their mental ages are the similar, Izumi mused to himself, ignoring Leo whining “Senaaaaa!”.

As they both silently and aimlessly walked in the lobby, Izumi sighed. It hasn’t even been a full day meeting this peculiar boy but the thought of throwing Leo into traffic was tempting. He was harmless, thank god, but vexing. Izumi barely knew the guy; all he got out of him is that this guy was annoying, overly loud almost all the time, quirky, disrespectful, childish, generally happy, and Most importantly, he was a violinist— a good one at that. So good that Izumi has just realized that this guy would be such a good person to accompany in any performance ever— and not once has Izumi had the chance to accompany someone in his piano days. It would be a good change. 

Yet, Izumi despised him.

It fueled him with anger how careless Leo was. Who in their right mind would play like that? (Though Izumi presumed Leo had no right mind). What kind of idiot would play like that in a competition in front of many well-known judges? He probably scored the lowest due to so many additional put-in sharps and flats and dynamics and notes and—

The blue-eyes boy heard the faint words in his head. 

It’s just my Beethoven.

Beethoven my ass.

Izumi stopped in his tracks.

“What was the point in signing up and paying to compete here if you don’t even care about winning?”, Izumi asked irritatedly. “That’s just a waste of your time and money. Did you think you were going to win anyways?”

He saw Leo’s head bob and turn in wonder. “It’s impossible for me to win like that, though?”, Leo replied simply. “No one can get away with doing what I did.”

Izumi glared. “Then why did you do it while knowing that? Are you just an idiot?”

Expecting a lash back or something, Leo grinned simply. “I did it because I wanted to be remembered in my own way.”

“Your own way?”, Izumi repeats. 

“Yes! I wanted to play Kreutzer the Leo way! Not the Beethoven way”, Leo exclaims, much like the little girl. “Imagine if I did win: Leo Tsukinaga, winner of the Iowa Violin Competition by the Beethoven way! Sounds lame!”

Izumi was too speechless to be angry at the gremlin any longer; it was hard to be angry at a person who wasn’t even angry back. Leo was a mystery, someone Izumi can’t understand in the span of almost two days. It wasn’t like Izumi could get along with anyone he pleases but at least with those that he detests, at least he can predict what they’re going to say. Leo was a newly-found obstacle, kind of like a boss battle. Except this boss was a teenage boy with bright green eyes that acts so fast that Izumi can’t keep up. Normally, he would flat out leave people that act too fond of him too quickly, so why is Leo still right in front of him with eyes big and bright of innocence? 

Alright.

Fine.

Leo can have his way.

But he’ll learn that no one in this community can have everything they wanted.

Izumi scanned the room, people were blurred and gray, as they always were. He looked over at the desaturated crowd of people, eyeing the competitors whose faces were with clear disappointment at the results, knowing they did not make it to the next round. Leo was such a moron for being able to have such a big and proud smile on his lips with the knowledge that he shamefully did not make it, hearing chatterings around noting that his name wasn’t in the list. 

Yet Izumi has never seen a person so full of life after they had lost. 

With a blink of an eye, Leo was bright and colorful. Izumi had already forgotten the muted orange mane that he saw Leo had and instead, accepted the fact that he has always thought his hair was sunny orange. His green eyes smiled up at Izumi, his fangs prominent as he gave him a toothy grin. Leo was just like a child anticipating a toy his parents promised him. 

“I may have lost, Sena”, the orange-haired boy began. “But now every single person in this room knows how much of a genius violinist I am! That was my master plan!”

“You’re a weird one, Tsukinaga...”, Izumi trailed off. His emotions were jumbled up, his words were scramble apart. He had no clue what he was supposed to feel and what to say. This boss was a hard one to fight.

Leo hummed as if he were in agreement and laughed. He tucked a bang behind his ear, causing Izumi’s lips to thin (he cursed at himself for such a reaction). The violinist spun on his heel. “Anyways, I’ve got to get going, Sena!”, Leo waved. “Next time!”

Izumi waved back and began making his way towards the bulletin boards. Shoving his way to the results, he made it to the very front of the crowd. He scanned the page for Leo’s name, finally stopped at the words, “Audience’s Favorite.”

Sure enough, Leo’s name was there.

It wasn't a surprise, really. His performance was undoubtedly the best, probably even one of the best performances he has ever witnessed in his years of competitions. Leo was a boy with many talents, the possession of the most legendary violin skills being very apparent. There wasn’t a single person in this room who would be displeased with the performance Leo had done— well, minus the stingy old men who sat at the judge's podium. Leo was definitely deducted points for all the times he played the adjusted piece, which was all the time. Based on such scores, Leo would have been placed the lowest.

If it were any other recital, the violinist wouldn’t have placed so low. Still, this was a competition, and Leo was far from winning. 

“I may have lost, Sena. But now every single person in this room knows how much of a genius violinist I am!”

Leo’s right after all. Even the stingy judges would have to admit that what he possesses was of prized skill. One must be insane to think so otherwise after witnessing such a performance. An experienced musician like Izumi was would be able to tell Leo had yet more to show; there was still a part of the violinist that was holding back, seemingly ready to explode whenever. He was certainly a force to be reckoned with.

Nevertheless, Izumi knew Leo has yet to open his naive, immature mind. No matter how well you can master such artistry, the best would eventually fall to the pits of the void.


End file.
